Life is such a funny thing, man. Sometimes I sit and think about it for a little too long, and honestly, I probably shouldn't. You start asking questions that have no business being asked at 2 a.m. You begin wondering whether we are all just some elaborate amusement for the gods. Perhaps they sit somewhere above us, looking down, deciding who gets the soft life, who gets the difficult one, and who, for reasons known only to them, is born already sliding through lava. Maybe they even place bets on who makes it. Which would be particularly cruel because, if they are gods, surely they already know the ending. But maybe I am overthinking it. What do I know? I was having a conversation with a favourite stranger last week about this thing called fate. Honestly, I don't really believe in it. I struggle with the idea that somewhere, somehow, there is an already-written script for my life. That before I even showed up, somebody had already decided who would become rich, who wo...
Everything eventually becomes a tale to tell.